Vegeta: Of Death and Vengeance
by LucifVegeta
Summary: When Frieza presents King Vegeta with a horrible truth, the King devises a plan to ensure the survival of his species. Young Vegeta is given a crucial mission, one that will eventually test his resolve against the mightiest overlord the galaxy had ever known...
1. Survival

_Well, I avoiding posting for YEARS while incessantly saying that I would update soon... and then when I finally update my profile to proclaim my retirement, guess what? I upload a chapter. Irony of the best sort :)_

 _Anyhow, you might recognize bits and pieces of this from an old story that I wrote with my good friend FinalFlashX called "Role Reversal." I'll explain the details after the chapter. For now, enjoy._

* * *

"My, what a _lovely_ little planet."

The tiny tyrant observed his mighty subordinates' home. While usually one for the lavish amenities of life, his latest childish outburst had left his private quarters in a state of... "disrepair" (flames, debris, corpses, and the like). So, while his standard observation lounge was undergoing restoration, the fiendish creature was relegated to what originally was a storage chamber. At least the view was pleasant.

One unfamiliar with the galaxy's overlord would not think of Frieza as the most dangerous, vile, and unpredictable monster in existence. He was small, frail, glistening white... even his horns were well-kept and crisp. However, to minds familiar, all it took was mention of his devilish grin to bring chills to the spine. He truly was infamous, even to warriors like the Saiyans.

The Arcosian slowly swished his finger in a glass of pure red wine. Just like his father used to, before Frieza brutally slaughtered him and took control of the family empire. Regardless, the malicious leader had something more devious than murder on his mind. Yet, it was something perhaps more satisfying, in his view. So, a few days prior, the tyrant requested King Vegeta's presence to discuss "business matters."

The opportunity to mentally destroy someone so arrogant like King Vegeta was something that didn't come up very often. The king had been overstepping Frieza's perceived boundaries a bit lately, that was for sure. The standard business arrangement between Frieza and the Saiyans was a classic Arcosian standard: servitude/slavery in exchange for, well, not committing genocide against their species. King Vegeta, being the bold and brash man that he was, did not take too kindly to the situation, and was tiptoeing the line ever so slightly. It was a nuisance to the galactic menace, and he did not enjoy nuisances.

Luckily for him, as soon as he sipped his first droplet of wine, the doors to his chamber swung open.

"Frieza! I have arrived!" barked the extraordinarily deep voice of King Vegeta. His cape fluttered as he stalked into the room, chin held high. It wasn't a secret to anyone that he thought highly of himself; that was an attribute that Frieza intended to change.

Allowing a slight smirk to seep through his purple lips, Frieza turned around in his hovering chair. "Good to see you, Vegeta!"

Seconds passed by after the Saiyan's grunt-in-response.

"Perhaps you're forgetting something?" He gestured towards the floor below.

The haughty Saiyan king scowled, his darkened eyes narrowing. "I will never bow to you. This was supposed to be a business meeting—nothing more and nothing less."

Frieza's smirk quickly stifled as he placed his glass of wine on the chair's armrest, and then clasped his hands together. He began drumming his fingertips periodically. "Even business partners can still treat each other with respect. Wouldn't you say, Vegeta? Don't make me ask again."

Vegeta guffawed. "Surely you jest. I am the King of all Saiyans, Frieza! I do not heed to petty orders from the likes of yo-"

Before he could continue his pugnacious shouting, the king was flung to the ground with a flick of Frieza's wrist. "Oh, my! How peculiar! I see you changed your feelings, Vegeta. How _thoughtful_ of you, really!" the Arcosian stated with his usual smirk.

"Argh... urgh... Fri-Frieza!" the king shouted from his unmovable kneeling position. "Let me up now, or I swear you will regret this!"

Frieza glared at his opposition. "No need to get testy now. All I wanted was some courtesy, Vegeta. The king of all Saiyans should certainly know how to act respectfully to his _superior_."

As the tyrant removed his telepathic hold on the Saiyan king, Vegeta was finally allowed to stand. He did so with a huff. Frieza was already getting on his nerves. The fiend was disdainfully patronizing, and the one thing that struck him the worst was the fact that Frieza believed him to be spineless and weak. Nothing—not even Frieza's condescension—perturbed the great king more than being thought of as weak.

"Let us begin our meeting, Frieza. This is already a tremendous waste of my time, so you better make this assembly worth my trouble," the king commanded with a glare. "And next time you think about trying anything foolish, I would _strongly_ reconsider. Angering someone of my caliber is not wise."

"Oh, I can assure you that this meeting will not be a waste of the mighty king's time, Vegeta." Frieza smiled. "You can trust me."

"Well... carry on, then," Vegeta boomed. His voice, even for a Saiyan, was unusually low in pitch.

Frieza nodded, and his red, beady eyes narrowed. It was time. "Certainly. Just one teensy tiny little thing, though… May I ask you how your son is doing today?"

The upper lip of King Vegeta curled ever so slightly, and his already harsh glare intensified. "What do you care of my son, Frieza?"

"Well… How to put this… I suppose I care quite a bit about your son, actually," the Arcosian said, feigning as much kindness that he could muster. "In fact, I think the little brat is, quite simply, astounding."

"Of course he is," Vegeta said. "He's my son. What of it?"

Frieza shrugged. "What of it, you ask? Well, the other day, I had a simple thought." The tyrant's eyes gleamed with pleasure. "By the way, please let me know if you're lost during this, Vegeta. I know your planet isn't exactly full of scholars."

"What are you getting at, imp?" Vegeta clenched his fist with dark eyes. "Be weary of how you respond. I did not intend on killing today."

Frieza ignored his threat.

"You see, I was looking into the vastness of space-what a marvelous view, by the way-and as I said, I had a thought. And it was _excellent_." The Arcosian grinned, fancifully indulging in all the hammy splendor of the mental torture.

"I had a thought about the mighty Saiyan prince—your precious little son, what a boy—working under the most powerful force the universe has ever known. Me!" His eyes narrowed. "He would be an errand boy, or an attendant, if you can imagine. Now, obviously he would be living here, as fulfilling my every desire takes a lot of hard work and time."

The tyrant's soulless eyes narrowed into darkened slits as his plan unfurled into action. "Let me tell you, Vegeta… I _loved_ that thought. I really did. It tickled my funny bone, per se. Anyhow, Vegeta, do you know what this means?"

Frieza was really enjoying himself now. His eyes now glistened with pride and his grin had widened into barely-contained laughter. On the opposite side of the spectrum was Vegeta, who was speechless. The king immediately felt his legs buckle as he dropped onto one knee in pure shock, his eyes widened with incalculable amounts of anguish. Would the cruel tyrant really separate him from his son, his only pride and joy? It was maddening.

"Y-you wouldn't dare, Frieza... I... I will get the Saiyan army! I will KILL YOU! I will kill EVERYONE!" He clamored, jolting his head upward to stare into the beady eyes of his ruthless adversary.

The ice-jin chuckled. "Au contraire, Vegeta. You brought this upon yourself. If you weren't such a cheeky little monkey, maybe I would have allowed you to keep your boy." The Arcosian stared in Vegeta's lost eyes. "Actually, come to think of it… I am feeling a bit kind today. My medical team recommends a daily good deed, you know? So, how about this: I will give you three days until I come and take your son. Fair? Seventy-two hours of pure bliss."

The words hardly registered in the king's mind. His second knee fell to the ground until he was basically begging at the feet of Frieza. His son would be taken from him. But... why? Why him? This was a question he had to know the answer to immediately.

He pursed his lips together and glared at the nearly laughing tyrant in front of him. "Why?! How dare you do this, Frieza! This is a breach of every agreement we have ever made! I have done nothing but assist you!"

"Because I know that you can't do a single thing about it. You can't stop me, Vegeta," Frieza quickly retorted with his trademark grin. "You can sure try, but I am much too powerful. Such a pity, really, that it had to come to this, but there comes a point in time where unbridled arrogance can only get you so far."

The king instantly spat at the ground of his proclaimed superior. Vegeta couldn't let that happen. Far too much was riding on his son's survival... It was something that the entire Saiyan race depended on.

With a grunt, the Saiyan hopped up from his seated position. His fists were furiously clenched. "Frieza, you have made a vital mistake—one that I will _not_ let you make. You may think you are untouchable, but I... I am the mighty King Vegeta." He popped his neck. "I have slain millions of creatures, beaten countless foes, and despite that you still question my strength. I will show you the true meaning of power!"

Immediately, the king burst out of his standing position and into the air, creating a stream of crackling energy behind him as he charged at Frieza. The Arcosian hopped out of his chair with brilliant speed, and before Vegeta could react, the Saiyan was sent crashing to the ground with a flick of Frieza's wrist. The powerful king grunted in pain several times as he ricocheted through the room, creating tiny potholes, before he finally stopped moving and crashed into the wall.

As Frieza mockingly chuckled, the king attempted to get up, but he fell back down once more, and slid down the wall until he was completely lying on the floor, bloodied and bruised from one simple attack. It was over before it began.

Frieza cackled at his adversary. "HA! Was it just me, or was that the most pathetic thing ever to happen in the entire galaxy?! I barely even had to lift a finger, and down goes the angry chimp!"

The icy-white tyrant strolled until he stopped right next to the injured and bloodied Vegeta. Despite the massive difference in size, Frieza had demonstrated one indisputable fact: He was much, much stronger than any Saiyan alive.

"Three more days, Vegeta. Three more days until you give your son to me." Frieza snapped his fingers and two of his soldiers quickly entered the area, both dressed in the usual white armor and helmets. "Send the 'king' back to his home planet. Have a nice flight, _Vegeta_. Oh, and say hi to your son for me."

As the Saiyan king was dragged out of Frieza's chamber, the Arcosian slowly sat back in his floating chair, gave a content sigh, and called for a refill on his wine. It had spilled a bit in the commotion, it seemed. The oppressive leader softly closed his eyes, and contemplated if he could manage to wait three whole days to thoroughly eradicate Vegeta's hopes and dreams once and for all.

* * *

 _Several hours later..._

Vegeta was desperate. Everything had been turned on its side by Frieza's out-of-the-blue plan, and he had to think of a way to get his son safe from the tyrant's harm. The king sat in his throne, pleading with his mind to think of an idea. And then... it hit him.

In a flare of newfound strength and willpower, the king burst out of his chair. He had an idea, and it would be one for the ages.

* * *

"Hey, Prince Vegeta, they asked for you at Terrace F. Somethin' about being escorted to the launch station… or somethin'."

An irritated grumble echoed throughout the giant room as a young boy with black, flame-like hair turned his head towards the door. The prince, in the middle of a typical training session, creased his brow as a scowl quickly formed.

"Haven't I told you to never _ever_ come in here, Nappa?!" shouted the enraged warrior as he spun around to look at his disruptor.

His eyes—dark as night, like his old man's—bored holes into the older Saiyan's. Nappa was a true behemoth in every sense of the word. He was as bulky and muscular as he was tall, and the gargantuan beast towered nearly eight feet into the air. Unlike most other Saiyans, however, the hulking figure lacked a thick mane of hair; all he was able to grow was a thin goatee that outlined his mouth. The young prince couldn't stand to even give a passing glance to his ugly face. If he weren't general of the Saiyan army, Nappa would be a social outcast; after all, hair was a very important aspect of Saiyan culture.

"Leave now before I decide to punish you for this insolence!" The boy, while young, had a surprisingly deep voice for his age—probably from his father's genetics.

"But…this is coming straight from your old man! He wants to see you at the station!" clarified the brute as he began to take a step inside of the prince's training grounds. A fierce stare from the young Saiyan was enough to deter him from doing so, and Nappa quickly retracted his hulking appendage.

Vegeta sighed as he walked over to his discarded royal armor and cape, which was folded neatly on the ground. Despite being prone to outbursts and fits of adolescent vexation, the prince still managed to maintain a posh eloquence expected of Saiyan royalty. As he observed his outfit, young Vegeta couldn't help but be a bit surprised that his father wanted to speak with him. It was only a few times a year that the esteemed king managed to grace the boy with his presence.

"Fine, then. I will go to the launch station to meet with my father," stated the young prince. He turned his head towards Nappa once again. The gargantuan figure was still. "Well, what are you waiting for, you idiot? Can't you see that if I am to meet my father, I will have to look presentable?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, of course!" exclaimed Nappa as he rushed to assist with armoring the boy. Vegeta remained motionless as his custom-made breastplate with the royal insignia slid over his head and firmly onto his body. With a flourish of his scarlet cape, the heir to the Saiyan throne promptly exited the training grounds with his colossal companion left lurching behind him.

The pair walked through the palace corridors in silence, but the bodyguard was notably behind the young boy. The prince always despised walking next to Nappa; not only was his stench at worst unbearable and at best a nuisance, but for the prince, reaching only to his waist was an embarrassment and something that Vegeta refused to allow.

After several minutes of striding through the grandiose halls, Vegeta finally reached his destination and emerged onto a terrace that overlooked the sprawling metropolis below. Countless skyscrapers consumed the land beneath him, and millions of twinkling lights illuminated the streets. The bustling cityscape was truly a sight to behold. The small warrior smirked—not at the beautiful scenery below him, but at the thought that the Saiyans would inevitably advance even further under his guise. His father was impressive to be sure, but the younger Vegeta's bravado was unmatched by even the king, and he yearned to grow old enough to replace his elder counterpart.

Nappa waited outside of the terrace with his arms crossed, waiting for the escort's arrival. Silently, the child he was in charge of glanced up at the glistening night sky. The atmosphere was a distinct red shade, and beyond its scarlet veil were billions of other worlds and stars. The Saiyan race was all too familiar with that fact. It was a Saiyan warrior's duty to go to other planets across the universe and to eradicate them of all life by order of Frieza's empire. At the moment, the Saiyans were "employed" (enslaved) by the vainglorious tyrant, and it was their job to acquire suitable planets for the Arcosian. Once cleared of all signs of life, the tyrant would have his slaves comb the planet to gather resources for selling, or—most profitable—to sell to another species for colonization (and eventually, unbeknownst to them, eradication once again).

Mercenaries. Reduced to nothing but genocidal mercenaries. The Saiyans! The young warrior grimaced. His father was pathetic.

He glanced back at the brutish Nappa. "If my escort was not going to be here yet, then why the _hell_ did you make me arrive this early, you buffoon?!" He shook his head in disgust. "Ugh, you're pitiful, Nappa. If they're not here shortly then I'm going back to my training."

He whipped his head back around to observe the city and ignored whatever response Nappa gave. His thoughts took a tailspin back towards his strength and power, as they often did, but yet… there was something bothering him. He growled inwardly as his scowl deepened. Vegeta was never allowed to conquer a planet; not yet, anyway. He had no real experience to reminisce over. In fact, he had only been off of Planet Vegeta (aptly named) once, and that was to observe some Saiyan Elites wipe out a random, lamentable species. Even then, though, he had been constantly berated and told not to participate in the purge. Simply an observation of what his future would be like, they said.

His thoughts dwelled with his father. It was he who had constantly blocked every attempt the prince had made to be given an assignment. It was he who had prevented Vegeta from proving how strong he really was to the rest of his people.

That's why this unexpected summoning gave the boy a slight but ever-present jolt of hope. Although unlikely, it was possible his father finally believed him to be ready for combat. The tiny warrior hungered for the glory and thrill of bloodshed.

Vegeta swiveled back around to face Nappa. "I cannot wait any longer! I am going to the launch station myself."

Before Nappa could interject, Vegeta blasted off into the crimson sky. He flew at full speed, unable to contain his eagerness at the possibility of an assignment. Ignoring the fact that his behemoth of a bodyguard had decided to follow him, the young boy quickly made way to the launch station, leaving a trail of sonic booms in his wake.

The prince touched down at the entrance of the station, and Nappa followed suit. Planet Vegeta only had one terminal space port. Because of this, the building that facilitated all of that traffic was truly gigantic, easily dwarfing every other building on the entire planet several times over. The two warriors entered swiftly through the main entrance.

The prince slowed his hustle as he took in the sights around him. An eerie silence seeped through the air, and there was none of the tumultuous commotion so typical of the launch station. The terminal was completely deserted. Despite the strangeness, he couldn't help but gain a pit of excitement in his gut. He had heard stories of the launch station being cleared out before important missions in the past, and maybe, just maybe, this would be no different. Finally, his turn for glory!

Directly ahead were two stoic Saiyans that appeared to be members of his father's personal guard. Members of Vegeta's guard were trained to do their job swiftly, quietly, and efficiently; they were truly some of the strongest Saiyans around. Stories of their many great battles permeated through the Saiyan world: tales of vanquishing vicious beasts, murdering wretched monsters, eradicating entire species for sport. Vast armies were nothing but child's play for King Vegeta's guard.

Vegeta, however, paid their historical esteem no mind as he marched towards them without a second thought. It seemed the motionless duo had been expecting the prince, because as soon as he entered into the fray, they each swiftly dropped to one knee.

"Your Highness," they both said, bowing their heads. The prince eyed the pair before releasing a grunt to acknowledge them. After being released from their bow, the two stood. "We apologize for being late to escort you, Prince Vegeta. Our king was giving us some last minute orders. It will not happen again. We have been directed to take you to your father, so please, follow us."

"Whatever," snorted Vegeta before gesturing with his hand for the pair of guards to lead the way. The group quickly marched through the terminal. Soon, however, instead of turning down the corridor that would lead to the launch pads used exclusively by the Saiyan Elites, his guides took him down one of the passageways that was only used for the third-class peons.

"What is this?!" questioned Vegeta with disgust after noticing the supposed major oversight. "You absolute imbeciles! Why are we going the wrong way?"

"I assure you, My Lord," replied one of his guides immediately. "This is the right way. The king will be waiting for us at the end of this corridor."

With a disgruntled huff, Vegeta clamped his mouth shut and scowled as he walked behind the two guards as they continued to lead him through the seemingly endless pathways of the station. It was nearly ten minutes later when they finally stopped in front of the entrance to one of the numerous launch pads for the low-class Saiyan warriors.

"The king is waiting inside for you, Prince Vegeta," informed one of the guides as he gestured for the boy to enter through the dilapidated doorway.

It was much smaller than the entrance to the station, and its gray hue was covered with cobwebs and dust. With a sneer of distaste, Vegeta strolled through the entrance, and as his scarlet cape billowed behind him, he felt the door suddenly slide shut. He thought it was strange that not even Nappa was allowed to come inside with him, but he didn't really pay too much mind to it. Clearly his father wished to speak with him in private. Did it bode well for the prospect of a mission? Perhaps, but before he had time to think it over, the young boy heard the familiar sound of the king.

"Ah, I see that you have finally arrived."

Vegeta tilted his head to look at where the deep, booming voice originated from. Standing several dozen feet away was his father, arms crossed, standing next to an older version of a space pod. Next to him was a much smaller creature, wearing what looked like a white lab coat. He was as short as the young Prince Vegeta, and was covered in smooth black feathers with a long, toucan-like orange beak. His big, floppy ears hung down by the sides of his head. It was Kiva, a member of a race enslaved by the Saiyans. He was often tasked with assisting Vegeta with whatever he needed. Aside from the duo and the pod, there was nothing but an area with control panels and other various technologies, but it all looked old and outdated.

"You summoned me, Father?" said the boy as he came to a stop before the older version of himself. He glanced at the bird-like creature, who gave what looked like a sad smile back. Vegeta ignored it.

"Yes, that is correct," confirmed the king. He turned away from his son, and glanced upward towards the sky in the opening above. "I have decided to finally grant your request for a mission. You will be leaving shortly."

The young Vegeta curled his lips into a prideful smirk. "Finally! It's about time!" he exclaimed. "But why are we in such a disgusting place as the third-class launch deck? The smell here is sickening."

Silence hung over the father-son duo for a few seconds before the older Saiyan finally responded. "The mission that you are being sent on is one of the utmost importance and secrecy. No one can know that you have left on your assignment, so using the Elite decks would be far too dangerous. Therefore, you will be leaving from here. That bastard Frieza wouldn't bother to have his soldiers look into these pods. In fact, they haven't been used in some time now, as you can probably tell."

The boy cocked an eyebrow at his father's words, but his excitement remained. "Why all this secrecy? What kind of mission am I being sent on?" His smirk widened. "Although it only makes sense that you would choose me to be sent on such an important conquest."

The king turned to look at his boy. His face was grim and callous, and he had seemingly aged ten years since they had last seen each other. The stoicism was typical, but this was different. The young prince's dastardly smile faded as his curiosity had instead become confusion.

"Your mission is... well, it is a long-term assignment," informed the elder Saiyan, his voice betraying no emotion at all. "I am sending you to a planet far away from here to train. You are _not_ to return here. Not until our endgame is feasible, at least."

The Prince was stunned into silence by his father's sudden revelation. It made no sense. Not return? Endgame?

"Ex-explain yourself!" demanded Vegeta with wide eyes, unable to say anything other than the two simple words.

"Frieza has ordered me to hand you over to him," said King Vegeta, his expression never changing as he spoke. "I refuse to allow that. Because of this, I am sending you away, so that one day you will grow strong enough to defeat him. If you were allowed to be taken in by that… that _fiend_ , you would never be able to achieve your full potential and return the Saiyans to their former glory. That is it, and nothing more. I will not explain myself further to a mere child."

The young Prince's body began to tremble. A vein suddenly appeared on the boy's forehead and began to throb as Vegeta's eyes bulged, barely able to contain the rage he held for his father.

"Do you believe that I am a COWARD?!" screamed the flame-haired prince with a thrust of his fist which cracked the wall beside him. "We are SAIYANS! The greatest warrior race the universe has ever seen! We NEVER flee from our enemies! Or, at least, that's what you told me before… why do you always wish to disgrace me, Father!? Why are you seeking to steal my pride and honor from me!? You'd instead force me to hide away on some putrid world than give me a chance to show my power?! I can kill that lizard now and be done with things!"

"This is not about your honor, your pride, or your power!" bellowed the king, causing even his fearless son to cower slightly. "This is about your survival; that is all that matters now. It is because you are the Prince of All Saiyans that you must go. If you are taken by him, then you _will_ be stripped of any pride and honor you possess as a Saiyan. Frieza will use every opportunity to break you and your pride. He will kill you before you can achieve your destiny. I will NOT allow that Arcosian bastard to steal that away from me... from us."

Vegeta stood in stunned silence for a few moments, his chin seemingly glued to the breastplate he wore, before finally regaining his voice. His eyes glanced downward before raising again to stare into his father's soul.

"From _us_ … You really are a coward," he said in a whisper. "Wasn't it you who said that as warriors, the only honorable way to do things is to stand up to our challengers?... And yet… you wish for me to run. To abandon my home. To 'fight another day.' You may be a coward afraid to die, but I'm not. I will fight Frieza now if that is my destiny. What I will not do is stay here and listen to your... your _idiocy_ any longer!"

With a haughty swagger, young Vegeta turned on his heel and began to storm out of the launch deck. Unfortunately for the boy, he was suddenly stopped when his father phased right into his path. Before the prince could even open his mouth, the king had already delivered a swift, powerful, jab to his son's stomach. Vegeta's mouth was agape in pain and his eyes widened as he formed an inaudible scream. He instantly lost all control of his muscles and collapsed onto the floor.

"Hmph. I should have known that the brat wouldn't have been able to handle this. Pathetic." The king grabbed his son and draped him over his shoulder. "Let's get on with it, then. Do whatever you need to wipe his memories regarding Frieza until the time is right."

The small creature grimaced with apprehension. "If you're sure about this, King…"

"Well, that's what you're here for, isn't it? Come on, now. There's not much time to waste."

Kiva sighed as he lifted his thin, frail arm, and a faint ball of rainbow light formed in his claw. He slowly transferred the ball of energy onto the unconscious Vegeta's skull, and with a bright flash it disappeared, seemingly absorbing into the boy's mind. He looked up at his king with feigned calmness for his assurance. The king promptly nodded at him.

"Very well, then. You know the arrangements, Kiva. When the time is right, return my son's memories about the Arcosian." The bird-like creature nodded and Vegeta continued. "It is vital he does not know about Frieza until he has trained enough to defeat him. He must believe he is on a training exercise and _nothing more_. Do you understand me, creature? If he fails, the light of Saiyans will be dimmed from this universe forever. That is something we cannot allow."

The king forcibly carried his son over to the pod. "You are invaluable to our success, Kiva. You must make sure Prince Vegeta trains throughout the years. If any Saiyan went with him, the high energy level would be sensed and the pod destroyed. Luckily my son will be unconscious so his power will not be detectable. You, with a weak energy level, will not be detected either, and are thus absolutely vital. Do not fail me."

Unable to protest, the bird-like creature nodded quickly. "I—we—will not fail you. I have tended to your son for several years now. He's a good kid. He won't let you down, Sir."

The king accepted Kiva's sentiments and turned to the pod. Kiva was not finished, and his feathered head slightly dropped towards the dust-covered ground. "Does… does it not bother you that your last words with your son were words of anger, Sir?"

Vegeta ignored the alien bird. He quickly inputted the coordinates of the planet Vegeta would call home before flinging his son's unconscious body into the pod; his lifeless figure tumbled through the machine before landing awkwardly on the floor. Kiva quickly waddled in after him and sat the prince up properly in his weathered, torn seat before sitting down next to him.

"Now go, my son," the King muttered with stone eyes. "I may not have been able to free the Saiyans, but I know that one day you will be able to return and avenge our people."

Of course, Prince Vegeta could not hear him. The door to the pod slid shut with a thud as the vehicle silently awaited the inputted countdown to take-off.

* * *

 _So, yeah, this is a rewrite of the Neo Z Fighter story known as "Role Reversal." The reason this is on my account? Well, it's because I no longer have the account info memorized for the old Neo Z Fighters account, and also because Flash is not working on this project anymore. (Don't fret, though: I have his permission to rewrite the story.) So, if by some chance you remember that story and see some things are similar here, or even unchanged, it's because of that, and I promise I'm not plagiarizing some random person's work._

 _I'm going to be completely frank with you all on several points, now._

 _I. This is SOLELY for practice. If you've read my profile, you'll know I'm planning some actual novels. The problem is, I haven't actually written prose in, like... five years or so. So yeah, this is just to get rid of some of the rust, while hopefully entertaining you guys in the process. I love Dragon Ball, so I would be remiss if I don't do it justice._

 _II. With that being said, there are bound to be errors, and maybe even a lot of them. I don't really care, to be honest. This is not my submission for an actual novel. It's not meant to be perfect. I will try my best to make it clean and whatnot, but I'm simply far too busy to spend a lot of time editing. (In fact, I probably won't edit at all... I'm supposed to be doing other things at the moment, but here I am.)_

 _III. I haven't watched Dragon Ball Z in six years or something. I don't remember exactly how the characters talk, and I don't necessarily remember exactly how they act. I, as the author, reserve create license to alter as I see fit, so please don't leave reviews destroying me because "Frieza would NEVER say that!" Thank you in advance._

 _IV. Yeah, turns out I don't remember timelines or ages or anything like that either. So, there will likely be some glaring mistakes in that regard. I'll try my best not to, but if I do... oops. Sorry. Also, no OCs except minor ones (Kiva), and I'm taking out significant parts of the old story, like the stuff with Bardock. I just don't have the time or energy to incorporate all of that. This will be Vegeta-focused._

 _V. Not sure if this will actually update often, as I haven't planned out much of anything for the story so far. I just wanted some practice and to entertain you guys a little bit. I still obviously need more practice (as you can probably tell), so I will likely update periodically, but please know my priorities place this as pretty far down the ladder. Adulting is not fun._

 _Anyhow, thank you all for reading, and I appreciate your support. I could be practicing on another medium, but I wanted to on here just to hopefully foster some enjoyment (and bring back some nostalgia from when I used to write on here).  
_

 _'Til next time._


	2. Arrogance

The King of All Saiyans, wielding as much elegance and titular-induced propriety as possible (under the circumstances), sauntered purposefully down the launch pad's hallway.

The gray walls were nearly empty. There were no murals depicting Saiyan glory and no sculptures of Saiyan royalty, but there certainly were several foundation cracks and a slew of dust bunnies. Lights flickered and the stench of dirt and grime permeated through the air. One could call Vegeta many things, but he was most definitely not an advocate for the third-class.

Vegeta was displeased. His son's departure, obviously the reason for the furrowed brow and clenched jaw, flowed through his mind. However, there was no sentimental longing to embrace his child.

Prince Vegeta was a prodigy. He was a jewel in the crown of the Saiyans, particularly his father. He was a chess piece in the game of universal ascendancy. The original plan was for him to train under his father until he was powerful enough to ascend to the status of Super Saiyan, and then he would fulfill his destiny and rule the world, obviously with Frieza's corpse in the dirt. However, King Vegeta was forced to alter that plan, and he did not enjoy it. Feelings be damned, the future of his species was at risk, and he would not-could not-allow himself to be memorialized in history for the downfall of the mighty Saiyan race.

With a curt huff, the king envisioned Frieza's mangled body beneath his boot, and preparations for phase two began.

At the end of the hallway waited the esteemed General Nappa, famous for his infallible military plots. He was accompanied by the same guards that delivered the younger Vegeta just minutes ago.

Usually the hefty warrior would be wearing his trademark smirk, but it was a dark time, and the air was drenched with tension. As soon as the flourishing maroon cape of King Vegeta crossed into the main chamber, Nappa dropped onto his left knee, bowing at the king's stoic figure. The guards quickly followed in his posture, and Vegeta halted his movement in front of his loyal warriors.

"You may rise," the king growled.

Nappa and the guards rose to their feet. Their leader exhaled deeply. "Come. We must take our course of action if my son is to make it to his new home without interference from Frieza."

The guards each nodded solemnly. Nappa crossed his bulging arms before rapidly undoing it and following in his king's footsteps. The king was already pacing himself down the corridor, clearly at haste. "So… what action do you have in mind?" the brute asked as he stalked behind his king.

"We must make sure that Frieza is unable to know about my son's departure. We will do whatever it takes. If it calls for an open rebellion, then so be it. This is the only chance we have of ending that spineless lizard's tyranny, and I will make sure that it does not go awry," the King explained.

"I... King Vegeta, I dunno... an open challenge to Frieza would be suicide," Nappa stated with a gulp. "Should we not at least try and keep us Elites alive? It might be possible for the third-classers to distract 'em long enough for a few of us to make way to a different star system or somethin'..."

The king pondered Nappa's inquiry. "You raise a good point, General. But… in the same sense, allowing the pod to fly near Frieza's ship without a _good_ _enough_ distraction would be fatal beyond measure." Vegeta frowned, and halted his movement to look at his company. "I don't know about you three, but I'm not trusting the future of the Saiyan race to a bunch of peasants."

Nappa conceded to Vegeta's point. No amount of discussion could change the fact that they needed to act, and they needed to act with more hurriedness than they'd like. This was not some petty squabble; this was the most important moment of their lives, and regardless of their battle plan, the Saiyans were outmatched by the malevolent tyrant.

"Come on now. We don't have time for this. Being completely rational… well, it would just take too much time to gather the third-class, or even the second-class warriors. We will take on Frieza ourselves!" Vegeta exclaimed with a huff.

The king swiftly continued his march, as Nappa and the two Elite guards followed, exchanging concerned glances. They were not as eager as their leader to face the devil himself.

In fact, above all else—and selfishly, to be certain—King Vegeta had a bottled up rage at how he was beaten so easily by Frieza in his flagship. It beset in his mind like a rampant wildfire quickly engulfing everything in its path and spreading cancerously. He growled inwardly with disgust. The King of All Saiyans was humiliated, his dignity shattered, and he would not be defeated so easily this time. He would make sure of it.

The younger Vegeta had most likely been sent off of the planet only a short time ago, and his pod—although seemingly microscopic compared to the monumental Arcosian ships hovering around Planet Vegeta—was still going to appear in range of Frieza's ship within mere moments. A distraction was needed of the highest level possible; what better than to have the most powerful Saiyan in existence challenge Frieza openly? Not only would it divert the tyrant's attention away from the young prince, but it would also cause all of his minions to watch their leader in action. By doing so, Vegeta would have a probable escape route and largely go unnoticed by everyone. And, of course, King Vegeta would have a chance to redeem himself.

It wasn't the perfect plan, but it was enough. And now, as the quartet reached the terrace, it was time. Vegeta, with his minions behind him, raised his right hand to halt their march. They stopped dead in their tracks.

"Well, my fellow Saiyan warriors… It is time. You have lived your lives with valor and might. You have served me well, and made the Saiyan race feared by all, from star system to star system." The king turned and looked at his subordinates for what may be the final time, his eyes somber. "Realize that your time on this world might be up, but we will not let that slime of an Arcosian make fools of us any longer. In time, after we are gone, Prince Vegeta will learn of our sacrifices. He will murder that space wretch, and return the Saiyan race to its former glory. I promise you all."

One of the Saiyans—a tall, lankier one—spoke up. "We entrust you with our lives, My Lord. If dying at Frieza's sickly hand is our destiny… then so be it."

Nappa and the two Elites bowed down to their king one decisive time. Pale with fear and discomfort, the three warriors awaited their master's call. King Vegeta looked them up and down, arms crossed, and clenched his teeth together. His eyes now glistened with pride. "Come then, brothers. Let us show Frieza what it is like to fight _true_ warriors."

The Saiyans rocketed into space, leaving four clouds of dust swirling in their wake on the terrace floor below them. The warriors quickly made way to the upper atmosphere of the planet. Directly ahead of them, idly floating in the black and starry background, was a typical Arcosian mothership. It's size was tremendous, and truly dwarfed the simple ships that typically flew to-and-fro.

The combatants came to a rapid stop in front of Frieza's massive spacecraft. A stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the planet below, the vastness of space was left untouched aside from Frieza's presence. Not a sound echoed despite the warmongering vehicles that loomed over the homes of the Saiyans. Calm and composed as ever, the great king spoke.

"Now go. Prepare to attack Frieza from behind his ship. I will draw him out, and then we will strike from two flanks," The king directed. "Do not attack until you hear my signal. A moment too soon will leave us all vulnerable."

Nappa gulped. "Uh, yeah, sure." His worried glance extended to his two Elite compatriots. "If we can get a good shot in when Frieza isn't focused, we might just have a chance at this after all."

"Let's hope," one of the Elites mumbled.

The trio flew off, careful not to use too much energy, and hid behind the backside of Frieza's spacecraft, cautiously avoiding all windows and viewpoints.

Vegeta remained halted in his movement about two-hundred yards away from the ship and immediately folded his muscular arms across his chest. He watched his compatriots disappear from sight. His head was slightly raised in a manner of self-inflicted elegance and displayed the arrogance of a monarch, but of course such a pose was all too common for the arrogant king.

Around him, the battlefield was silent.

After a matter of a few moments (that was all the king could afford to wait, after all), he began to get restless. Frieza did not notice the challengers, and if he did, he sure didn't care about them. Vegeta's already black eyes grew darker, and his lip raised to form a snarl. Immediately unfolding his arms, the king gathered a mass of rippling purple energy. The king's frown grew even larger, and he quickly pulled his right arm back. Within seconds, the ball of crackling ki was flung toward Frieza's ship.

Careening against the Arcosian vessel, the ball of energy exploded, creating small cracks across the surface of the ship. Vegeta smirked with pleasure. If Frieza wasn't ready for a fight before, he certainly would be now, and everyone on this side of the universe knew that Frieza was hasty when angered. As if on cue, the Arcosian flew into space, for once out of his quite pragmatic hovercraft. He ceased movement directly in front of the king with a slight smirk on his ivory mien. It was a good old fashioned stare-down, tyrant versus tyrant, Saiyan versus Arcosian, enemy versus enemy.

Frieza broke the silence first.

"Well, this is a surprise." His tail swished behind him as if it were a snake ready to strike at moment's notice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Frieza!" Vegeta shouted in response, his gruff voice accompanying his elegant posture. "Your rule is over! I will kill you and rule the universe myself, as it should be! You cannot take my son away from me!"

The Arcosian across from him simply chuckled lightly. "Are you sure it will be that simple, Vegeta?" He traced his beady red eyes across Vegeta's seemingly infallible guise. "Was our last encounter so scarring that you blocked it from your tiny brain? Or are you just that dull?"

The Saiyan scowled at his adversary. "The might of the Saiyans is not one to underestimate, Frieza! Your fatal mistake was threatening my rule by taking my son. This partnership is coming to an end." Slowly, the king released his crossed arms and tightly clenched his fists. "It will be that simple because I will _make_ it so."

"Oh, Vegeta," the Arcosian suavely stated. "Silly, silly Vegeta. I understand your qualms, of course… But what, pray tell, will you do about it, you mighty Saiyan king?" he then inquired with a glint in his crimson eyes.

A momentary twinkle in the Saiyan's demeanor shone in the blackness of space.

"You ask what I will do about it, Frieza, but in your ignorance you fail to realize that I have already eliminated all of your chances to take my son." A grin quietly seeped through the hardened warrior's tan face, and with narrowed eyes, Vegeta stared into Frieza's soulless red chasms.

Frieza was intrigued to say the least. His brow raised, the Arcosian beamed with delightful inquisitiveness. His purple lips curled in a smirk as the duo continued to stare at each other, neither giving an inch. "Oh, do tell, Vegeta."

Immediately the king retorted, a dark fire burning within. "Frieza, your foolishness has no bounds! You see, while you were moseying in your ship, I have saved my rule... in more ways than one." With a quiet smile, Vegeta extended his arm to point at his adversary. "My son is dead, Frieza, and you will never be able to harness his power! You have lost!"

As the king's final words were processed, the small tyrant began to shake, squeezing his hands into his fingernails and releasing droplets of plum-colored blood into the atmosphere. "... What did you say...?"

Vegeta beamed, extending his vainglory towards Frieza's furious festering. "My son is dead, Frieza! And with it, so is your plan. You failed to realize that I cared nothing for that brat. I have outsmarted you, and now my people will forever relish in your failure!"

Frieza took a quick moment to compose himself with a swallow. Vegeta DARED to question not only his authority, but also his intelligence?! It was as if the Saiyan thought of him as a mockery, a mere… equal!

In the midst of the silence, the Arcosian managed to portray a guise of elegance and apathy toward the situation. For how long it would last, he had no idea. He managed to force a slight smirk, and his dangerously narrow eyes glared at Vegeta's cocky grin. "A commendable feat for a dullard such as yourself."

The arrogant king reveled in the splendor of his plan with a shout, not noticing the silent rage burning inside of his opponent's soul. "I am the King of all Saiyans, Frieza! My power is unmatched even by you!" He clenched his fist and pumped it outward in a pose of victory. "It's over, fool! Your inferiority extends to the entire Saiyan race!"

As the glorious king observed his enemy's tranquil wrath, Frieza did nothing. Time seemed to sit still for a fleeting moment as the monstrous tyrant floated, arms crossed and with closed eyes. Vegeta's smirk was now on the verge of a fit of cackles as the imperious leader admired his handiwork.

Then, Frieza opened his eyes. His smile was gone.

In the span of milliseconds, the irate creature pounced toward the Saiyan king, who could only helplessly watch as an ivory fist rushed toward his jaw. With a disgusting crack, Vegeta's head snapped backwards, and as he spiraled through the fabric of space, he could only let out a faint "G-Go..!" The great king plummeted down back to the lower atmosphere of the planet, and within moments he was out of sight.

"Alright, it's go time!"

Immediately, the two Saiyan Elites burst out from behind Frieza's flagship and rushed the white and purple tyrant, streams of energy swirling behind them. Frieza, regaining his sickly enjoyment after relishing in his simple victory over Vegeta, whipped his body around to face the two attackers. His smile never faltered, and the two Saiyans attempted not to hesitate in their assault as they stared the grim reaper in his devilish face, black horns and all.

One Saiyan gave a loud snarl as he flung his fist towards Frieza's neck, but the Arcosian swiveled his head to the side to avoid the blow. Simultaneously the other quickly extended his leg out towards Frieza's to try and trip him up, but the sadistic oppressor was much too fast, and effortlessly flipped backwards to avoid the kick. He crossed his arms and smirked.

The Elite warriors cocked their heads and prepared for another attempt. "FRIEZA! It's time for you to die!" One of the Elites yelled, preparing to charge for round two.

Frieza extended his arms to the side, inviting his attackers in with a hearty laugh. "Oh no, two monkeys wanting to play, what will I _ever_ do?!"

His blood-red eyes beamed with enjoyment as the dictator reveled in the thrill of his superiority. Evidently, his fury at the Saiyan king was gone nearly as quickly as it arose. What could he say? He just really, really loved torturing his enemies, failed plans be damned.

The two Saiyans phased in front of him, each directing a punch towards his midsection. The two punches were directed elsewhere by a clever block from Frieza's tail.

"Come now, Saiyans! I thought you were my elite soldiers! Don't tell me I misjudged you!"

The angry duo charged at their oppressive leader, but one halted in his approach and fired a blue sphere of energy sputtering with power. The other ducked to avoid the attack as he forcefully thrust his leg towards Frieza's groin. Predictably, neither assault connected, as the tyrant spun out of the way of both attacks, leaving the blue orb to dissipate harmlessly in the distance.

His grin widened as he shrugged condescendingly towards his assailants. "Vegeta would be so disappointed in you… although, as surprising as it is, you did last longer than he did!"

Lackadaisically, he scratched his shoulder and sat crisscross in the depths of space, once again making a mockery of his Saiyan adversaries. He feigned a yawn and patted his grotesque purple mouth several times, truly rubbing in his superiority. "Aren't you going to keep trying, Saiyans? Please don't tell me that silly speech your monkey king gave to me was all for naught. It really was inspiring."

He put his ivory hand down and grinned, his beady red eyes narrowing into demonic slits. "You know, the whole 'my son is dead' thing."

In an instant the Saiyan warriors appeared directly in front of Frieza, ready to strike once more. The tyrant remained still in his halfhearted apathy, and absorbed the brunt of their assault with his face.

Unfortunately for the two warriors, however… it didn't even phase him. His devious grin disappeared instantaneously and a faint sigh escaped the corners of his mouth. The Saiyans jumped back, jaws agape and wide-eyed. Despite two clean, direct hits on the beast, his head didn't budge a single inch.

"Pity. I was hoping you two peons would be more of a challenge. Some 'Elites' you turned out to be. I _really_ need to get a trademark on that word… it's used so often these days, and without any regard for the true definition."

With a simple flick of two extended fingers, two pink slivers of energy whizzed through the atmosphere with astounding speed. The two pitiable Saiyan warriors, who fought with hopeless abandon, weren't able to even eek out a gasp as the razor-thin attacks sliced their heads clean off. Their lifeless bodies quickly fluttered through the darkness, limbs flailing left and right, as they dropped towards the planet's gravitational pull, their heads nosedived behind.

Frieza pouted as he moved his eyes downward, watching the bodies disappear below him. Two Saiyan Elites, the strongest warriors that he knew to exist, were not even a minute challenge for the mighty leader. If he wanted, he could have finished them off in nanoseconds with just a strike from his tail. It would have cut them cleanly in half, he thought, and the idea amused him but only enough for a brief snort. There was no amusement in battles against men who confronted the inevitability of their impending deaths. Certainly the most enjoyment would have taken place if the Saiyan king would have begged for mercy instead of foiling his shrewd plot… Oh how he loved to watch grown men beg.

The reminder made the tyrant's childlike frown grow deeper. The king, although reckless and much too brash for Frieza's liking, had proven to be more resourceful and astute than he had given him credit for. The Arcosian sighed as he wiped below his eye. Some of the Saiyan' blood had spurted on him after the decapitation. He closed his eyes, allowed himself to slowly drift backwards in the vacuum of space, and took pleasure in the fact that he could be bathed soon, and maybe a glass of nice wine would make things a wee bit better.

As he began to turn back to his ship, he felt a pair of thick, powerful arms wrap around his waist and attempt to hold him in place.

"NAPPA! I CAN'T HOLD HIM FOR VERY LONG! DO IT NOW!"

The tyrant cocked his head to the side to view his captor: King Vegeta. Frieza's contemptuous glare pierced the eyes of the battered warrior with shock, and Vegeta gave a sly smirk as he held on with all of his might. The Arcosian believed him to be down and defeated, his neck broken, and Vegeta knew it.

"Ha, you got it, Vegeta!" Nappa appeared from behind the ship, wielding a large, growing ball of bright yellow energy that shined throughout the cool darkness of space. His arm was pressed back as if he were ready to throw with all of his force.

"Hrrrraaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Nappa growled as he focused his inner energy towards the endgame of the Saiyan's plan to stall-or defeat-Frieza.

With every second that passed, ripples of electric energy penetrated the vastness of space. In an otherwise shadowy, obscure pit of darkness, a tremendous amount of light was radiating from the energy he had gathered. Crackles of energy bounced to and fro from the attack Nappa was gathering as Frieza looked aghast towards the impending blast. It was truly a sight to behold, and a monumental amount of ki was forming in his palm—power great enough to decimate entire continents, as Vegeta had seen so many times before.

"VEGETA, YOU FOOL! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS! I SWEAR, I WILL MAKE YOU REGRET THIS!" Frieza screeched in his shrill, suave voice as he struggled to free himself from Vegeta's capture. He could see the rapidly increasing ball of bright energy forming in Nappa's palm, and his heartbeat rapidly increased with every desperate attempt to escape the king's clutches.

The king softly smiled and closed his eyes. He was nearing his death; Frieza's assault had seriously blocked much of the perfusion to his brain, and there wasn't much time left. If he and Nappa could manage to kill Frieza here, once and for all, then his son would be able to reclaim the Saiyan throne much earlier than anticipated. It would be a superbly memorable day in Saiyan history books, and he would be remembered as a true Saiyan hero.

Nappa continued gathering energy. Sonic booms erupted all around him as his power grew more and more, each second increasing the amount of brilliant, radiant golden ki that spread across the emptiness around him.

"Almost… there… Boss…" Nappa exclaimed, concentrating fully on the energy blast he was preparing to send at Frieza. "And… DONE! Time to die, Frieza!"

The creature gasped with a look that the king had never seen before. His mouth quivered and his tiny eyes seemingly twitched.

Doom was impending.

The behemoth flung his arm forward as his ki flew out of his hand and rapidly eclipsed on Vegeta and Frieza. Its massive energy seemingly tore apart the very fabric it existed on as it hurdled towards his enemy and king. Ripples of electricity careened every which way as the gargantuan yellow blast continued on. Nappa let out an emphatic cheer of success as it approached the oppressor. Finally, the tyrant's rule would be over!

Then, he witnessed Frieza's look of pure horror quickly fade. The Arcosian flashed a smile.

Instantly, the beast pulled his arm from Vegeta's hold, and with just a mere slap of his hand, he sent the deathly assault into the far reaches of space where it exploded onto some debris, incinerating it and creating a brilliant flash of light that blinded the eyes of everyone near it. The explosion rocked Frieza's flagship and Nappa covered his face with his massive arms to protect from the damage. Pieces of space fragments and rock went whistling past the large beast as the sole reminders of the powerful assault he had used all his vigor to launch.

Slowly, the dirt and dust dispersed and an unharmed Frieza remained.

"Well now, that might have given me a little cut!" Frieza exclaimed with mocking surprise as he examined the back of his pure white hand. "Marvelous show, Saiyan! Truly a spectacle! Four stars out of four! Five popcorn bags!"

The two Saiyans were dumbfounded. They had tried everything… if that attack didn't so much as harm the tyrant, they had no hope whatsoever. Vegeta grimaced in pain as the realization hit him. They had failed.

"V-Vegeta… what do we do now?!" Nappa questioned, clenching his fists through his shaky voice. He had used the entirety of his energy on that single attack, and it didn't do so much as scrape the tyrant's skin. That blast was powerful enough to vaporize thousands of miles of land, to level mountain ranges… and it did the same damage as a diminutive flick.

Vegeta couldn't even give his esteemed general an answer. No strength in his soul could be mustered up to conjure any words. All hope had betrayed him. He closed his eyes and winced at the thought that their fight was finished, that all of his efforts to defeat Frieza ended with nothing more than a flick of Frieza's hand. As his brain began to shut down, and his heart began to slow, the king struggled to bask in any sort of glory typical for a dying Saiyan warrior.

It was customary for a Saiyan killed in battle to be honored with a festival of their achievements. Fellow Saiyans would tell tales of the many great battles the slain warrior partook in, and it would be a feast in their honor for all of the Elites and select family members. Laughs would be shared, food would be guzzled down… their name would go down in history if they were worth their weight, and as king, Vegeta was certainly that. However, as he squeezed his eyes shut even harder, he realized that his death was not honorable. He couldn't even put up a defense against his adversary. He had no final battle worthy of a third-class, let alone an Elite. It was shameful how outclassed he was against Frieza, almost as if he were an insect trying to defeat a god. No stories would be told about this battle, and his name certainly wouldn't be praised in any capacity. By all measures, he had failed his people.

Thus, his intemperate arrogance, so often the centerpiece of the king's personality wardrobe, was finally abandoned.

The king did not notice when Frieza slaughtered his general. He did not process Nappa's screams for help as the Arcosian tore him apart in space's dark abyss. He did not see Nappa's body drift past him after Frieza was done with him. He did not hear Frieza approach him with maniacal cackles of victory.

All he could think about was that, despite all of their failures in battle… Prince Vegeta had, for all he could tell, made it out of the sector without being noticed. It that way, then, it was truly a success. His thoughts were interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice.

"Vegeta! Bedtime already?!" Frieza derided, as he floated over to the near-dead king.

The Saiyan gave no acknowledgement to Frieza's taunts. Frustrated, the Arcosian moved closer to his inferior. His fit of laughter had subsided, and now he was standing over the floating body of the king, his accursed grin surprisingly absent.

"Unbridled arrogance, Vegeta. You could have given me your son and got on with it, but you had to play games with me. I told you unbridled arrogance would only get you so far, and now look at you." Frieza softly kicked his battered and damaged armor. "The 'mighty' King Vegeta, groveling at my feet like a pet. I really could have gotten used to this. Shame."

The powerful Saiyan warrior managed to force his eyes open as he clenched his teeth together. His harsh onyx eyes bored holes into his fiendish enemy. One last time, he spoke, and for the first time in his renowned life, his obsession with his own strength ceased.

"Frieza… I have seen that I am far too weak to defeat you in battle. That... that much is certain. However… in the catacombs of my soul… in the caverns of my mind, I have seen your defeat… You… You will be slain. And the Saiyans… will be avenged." The king managed a forceful swallow. "I promise you, Frieza… your rule… will end. And I… and I will see you… in Hell."

The gleaming white tyrant kneeled, coming closer to Vegeta's face as the life slowly exited from the former king's soul.

"Goodbye, Vegeta," he whispered. "When I go to exterminate the rest of you apes… I'll make sure to think of how you failed every single one of them."

With a smirk, the Arcosian kicked the lifeless body of Vegeta down to his planet below. As his body tumbled through space, the king's last thought was not of fear, not of regret… but of hope.

* * *

"STATUS REPORT: Entering atmosphere in approximately twenty seconds. Time to wake up."

"Ugh, what the hell," mumbled the drowsy Saiyan prince as he slowly shook off the effects of the pod's sleeping gas. He blinked his eyes several times to adjust his vision to the pod's light.

"UPDATE: Now entering into Planet Earth's atmosphere. Estimated time until impact on planet's surface: thirty seconds."

"Planet... Herth?! What?! NOOO!" shouted the prince as the pod began to shake violently, penetrating the planet's atmosphere. "I don't want to be here on this pathetic planet! Take me back! Take me back to Planet Vegeta! I command you to take me back now!"

He angrily glared at his compatriot, Kiva, who was visibly apprehensive—both of the impending crash, and of his furious prince. "Kiva! Turn this thing around! Take me back to my damned father! I want a real mission, not some pathetic training exercise!"

A snarl formed on the young Saiyan's face when he received no answer from the bird-like creature. In an attempt to manually override the pod's autopilot, Vegeta began to angrily smash any and all buttons that were within his reach. Combining his explosive tantrum with the fact that he had no idea how a pod worked, his mashing was a recipe for disaster; sure enough, he accidentally hit the self-destruct button.

Almost instantaneously after the button had been destroyed, a giant explosion engulfed the duo, and the pod's debris staggered through the air in every direction. Vegeta was sent spiraling into the planet's surface, as his body appeared to be a missile nosediving through the clear blue sky in the midst of a rainstorm of fiery debris. He crashed forcibly into the ground below, sending a mist of dirt and browned water into the air.

Thanks to his harsh training, the Saiyan boy had experienced such falls before, and jolted up with a huff and a few curses. His armor had been mostly shattered, but his blue underclothing was still in premier condition. Kiva slowly hovered towards the ground, surrounded by what looked like a clear sphere of glittering energy that had protected him from the blast.

"Prince Vegeta, you must calm down! You're going to get us both killed!" the bird exclaimed, softly landing onto the planet next to him as his energy field dissipated.

The prince scowled at his watchful assistant as he wiped the grime off of his clothing. "Kiva… You are to take me back this INSTANT! I should not be here on this disgusting mudball!" He looked around at the dirt at his feet and at his surroundings, which appeared to be a swamp of some sort. "I need to be on a real mission. My father knows this as well as I! How dare he trick me like that!"

The alien—a member of the species known as the Passaro—sighed and shook his head as he too took in his surroundings. "Prince, I know this is difficult, but your father gave me strict instructions! If you do what he tells you it'll make this much easier!"

"Strict instructions… Hmph. My father is a swine," Vegeta mumbled, as he picked up a rock and tossed it up into the air a few times. "He is as spineless as he is old. We're going back, and we are going back _now_."

Kiva glanced at the pile of debris near the duo, and sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his orange beak. The impatience was astounding. "Prince… I hate to remind you, but you just destroyed our pod."

The young prince frowned and with a snarl he chucked the rock with incredible speed into the distance. It disappeared from sight nearly instantly. "Damn it all."

He turned to his bird-like companion and folded his arms across his small yet muscular frame. "Pod or not, I don't intend on staying on this sordid planet for long, Kiva. As the Prince of all Saiyans and as your _superior_ , I demand that you prepare to send me back to Vegeta within the next week." He quickly began to walk away from the flabbergasted Passaro, his white boots trudging along in the muddy ground.

"Sir, I hardly think that's reasonable!" the bird exclaimed with a worry as he waddled after him, splashing in the grungy water below him. Each step caused some water droplets to bounce in the air, making the short creature's previously pristine lab coat soaked in a brown tone.

"You're a scientist, aren't you?" Vegeta questioned as he continued walking, ducking his head to avoid a tree branch. "That's the reason you're alive in the first place, is it not?"

Kiva's tiny black claw flew towards his face as he facepalmed at the young boy's demands. "Prince Vegeta, it would take me months to even begin planning out how to make a spacecraft! We don't even know if this planet has any technology at our disposal!"

"Then go find out!" The prince roared with a snarl. He continued trudging along even after his bird companion halted in the dirty wetlands. "I'm going to go kill something. Now do what I say, or else that 'something' will be _you_."

Instantly, Vegeta burst into the air, flying through the light blue sky. He quickly faded across the horizon until Kiva could no longer make out his figure. The bird let out a concerned sigh. He had known Vegeta for essentially the boy's entire life, and despite his all too common fits of rage and his enormous hubris, he had actually come to care for the child quite a bit. The Passaro violently shook his feathered body to rid some of the vile swamp water that had soaked his dark black coat, and he began to float into the sky. Some dry land would do nicely, and then he could figure out what to do with the whole pod situation.

As it stood, he was tasked with convincing Vegeta to both stay on the planet and train hard, and both responsibilities seemed incredibly unlikely considering the boy's feisty impatience. The bird looked around at the planet's floor; with his fantastic eyesight, he could see miles into the distance with near-perfect clarity. it seemed devoid of all sentient life, minus some small fluttering things that buzzed and erratically swerved through the air. Although, Kiva noticed, there were a few other lifeforms here and there, but he seriously doubted they were intelligent enough to speak. It sounded like one was making a croaking noise, but he couldn't be sure. Some little green thing that hopped around in the grimy swamp. Prince Vegeta seriously expected him to build a new pod in these conditions?!

"Too much like his father…" Kiva muttered to himself as he shook his head slightly, continuing his tranquil flight.

* * *

"You called, my lord?"

Frieza turned in his hoverchair. "Ah, Zarbon. Just the man I wanted to see."

The white fiend hopped out of the chair and strolled to the large window of his current residency (storage room). With a smirk, Frieza eyed the deep red Planet Vegeta. His eyes glistened fiendishly in the reflection.

"I have a mission for you."

* * *

 _Well, turns out I updated pretty damn quickly this go-around. That's because right now there isn't much original material I need to create, so I did this fairly rapidly. Again, please remember this is simply for "real life" practice, and I didn't do much (any) editing or anything like that. If you see some errors, I apologize. I hope it won't be a hindrance towards your enjoyment._

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _'Til next time._


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